


what if we, maybe

by QueenOfSkaro



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Frottage, HBP-Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfSkaro/pseuds/QueenOfSkaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Harry wouldn't ever say so out loud, but he hurt for his enemy. He shouldn't, because Malfoy was probably, almost definitely evil and Harry shouldn't want to comfort him - and he didn't, surely, maybe it was only pity, but ... there is so much to fight in this world, a grudge like theirs seemed so petty at times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what if we, maybe

This detention was completely unwarranted, Harry thought, as he trudged through the dungeon in the directions Flitwick gave him. It wasn't his fault his desk exploded. Or the two on either side of him. Someone must have given him the wrong pronunciation. Or a different charm alltogether. He was supposed to make the furniture dance, not destroy it.   
As if he did it on purpose! He didn't, he already got enough on his plate, with Sirius dead, a hard summer with the Dursleys and - while he was happy to be back with his friends, he felt like it wasn't the same anymore. Maybe he changed and they couldn't quite get around it. Perhaps they blamed him for what they had to see in the ministry. He guessed it was the latter, but he wouldn't adress it by himself, so he'll only know if they ever came to him to talk about it, which was doubtful.

Whatever it was made Harry feel queasy in his skin, uncomfortable in his common room and surrounded by his friends.  
Detention wasn't what he'd prefer for his night, but deep down he was sure it was better than listening to Ron talking about Quidditch and Hermione nagging why he doesn't have his homework finished yet - or her nerw favourite topic, why he kept that ominous book, thats cheating, Harry, I never pegged you for a cheater.

And then there was Ginny, full of looks and gestures and touches Harry was almost completely sure he knew what they meant. He could be wrong, of course, and while she was a nice girl and all he hoped she didn't really want what he thought she did. Besides kissing Cho taking him off the matter of girls completely, Ginny resembled more a little sister in his eyes than a girlfriend. The thought alone made him queasy in his stomach.

He ended on a dead end and growled in annoyance. He was so far into the dungeon he didn't recognize anything - and there wasn't much to begin with, it was mostly damp walls and spluttering torches as far as he could see. He walked back and took the other corridor at the last parting of ways, hoping not to have to look around for much longer. If he was late he was sure to get another detention. Talk about things he didn't want.

Hearing shushed clamour he knew he got the directions right this time, but that also meant something else - he'd have to spend the night with Draco Malfoy - and that was wrong on too many levels to count in the short amount of time he had until he reached the room Malfoy was in.  
His mood plummeted down a notch or two and it was a near thing that he kept the groan in. This was punishment enough for blowing up an entire classroom, not three measly tables.

"Potter.", he got yelled at as soon as he stepped over the threshold, Snape glaring at him like he always did and even though it was still pretty impressive it only deepened his scowl.  
"Lovely evening to you too, professor.", he snarked, not really caring about more punishment right now.  
"Of course you're still an impertinent brat. Five points from Gryffindore. Now, you both will tidy up here. When I come and get you whenever I see fit I want this cleaned and sorted. The trash goes into the hallway, against what I suggested you aren't required to take it out, the house elves will do that.", Snape told them with his normal sour tone of voice, making his way to the doors. "You won't leave until I come and get you."

With that last farewell he was gone, leaving them in a room full of trash and junk, on some points reaching the ceiling, most everywhere piled high enough to reach over their heads.  
"Well, fuck it.", Harry breathed as he took all the work in. That was just unfair.  
"He can't be serious.", Malfoy exclaimed, still in outrage over the pretentious display of disrespect. Harry snorted ill-humoured.  
"He's definitely not.", he deadpanned, only getting a vague, disinterested confusion in return.  
"Get your head out of your ass, Malfoy. I won't do this alone.", the Potter warned with foreboding. He knew this kind of situation, he already had enough detention with the blond git to know the drill.

Suddenly feeling too tired to really fight like they used to he didn't wait for whatever cocky reply was thrown his way and started the work with a deepfelt sigh.  
The casket he took first was mostly rotten and got thrown out the door without a second thought. A moldy blanket followed. He was sure all of this was trash, but that wouldn't make their work easier.   
It took him a little by surprise that Malfoy didn't spew any insults as he started his work beside Harry, but he guessed it shouldn't, not really. Sure, it was easy to fall into old habits, but he wasn't the only one coming back changed for this schoolyear. The blond most of the time looked weary and tired. Hopeless, but determined.

Maybe Harry wouldn't ever say so out loud, but he hurt for his enemy. He shouldn't, because Malfoy was probably, almost definitely evil and Harry shouldn't want to comfort him - and he didn't, surely, maybe it was only pity, but ... there is so much to fight in this world, a grudge like theirs seemed so petty at times.  
"Eww.", the other exclaimed, probably out of reflex, as he threw a hamper away that was filled with dead rats. Literally filled.

They got strewn over the little floor space they already cleared. Both of them stared at them for a moment.  
"Fuck it.", the words escaped Harry again before he could help it. "I feel like they shoved us into Hannibals basement."  
And, yeah, a dead rat or two wasn't that shocking, they worked with worse every potions class. But one or two hundred were a completely different matter, in umpteen stages of decay.  
"I don't think I want to get to know that guy.", the slytherin muttered as they both continued to stare at the remains.  
"You don't.", Harry breathed, before he pulled himself together and turned back around to his corner. "You threw them, you clean them up."

Muttering maledictions under his breath Draco got to work and that, above everything else, screamed to Harry that something was wrong with the blond. It wasn't his business, it wasn't and he should be happy that fate didn't mean it well at last with the other, but the gryffindore was sick of hate and fighting and enemies. It already cost him Sirius, he didn't want to think about what he could lose next.

The preservation spells on a stack of books ran thin, but still worked enough that they'd be salvageable, so he put them to the side.  
They worked in silence for a while, only cursing now and then but mostly in peace and Harry found himself thinking that this could have been so much worse. It was almost comfortable. Way better than what his evening would have looked like without detention and when he thought about it like that it was kind of sad.

The room was already halfway sorted as they stopped for a little break. The house elf that kept popping up to magick the junk away had put a tray with sandwiches and soda on the floor and carefully, pointedly not fishy in any way, pushed it another few inches toward them. As Harry thanked him with a grateful smile the elf squeaked and vanished.  
A quick charm took care of cleaning their hands before they sat down onto the floor to eat. It must have been over ten pm already, but still Harry didn't feel as if he could sleep in the near future. He was tired all day, but never enough to want to brace the nightmares. Never enough to make them go away.

"I'm sorry about your godfather.", Draco mumbled under his breath, a sandwich in his hand. It was quiet enough Harry wasn't sure at first if he heard correctly, but seeing the slytherin pointedly not looking at him let him think that he did.  
That was strange. Harry never thought about Draco being sorry for him. Ron and Hermione and Ginny, of course. They had to, they were his friends. But it wasn't required of the blond, wasn't anywhere near the norm for enemies - but were they still? After the broken nose in the train they actually hadn't fought since.   
And seeing what happened to Lucius he guessed, from Dracos point of view, he kind of deserved that.

"I'm sorry about your father.", he answered, after carefully thinking about it. Lucius Malfoy wasn't a good man. He was a murderer and a death eater and tried to hurt his friends. He deserved Azkaban. But Draco didn't deserve to have a father in prison, no matter how arrogant he was. And even that couldn't be seen often anymore. It was as if he got swapped for a more worn-out, world-tired version of himself.  
His answer was an awkward shrug of shoulders, as if he didn't believe him, but didn't want to call him out on it to keep the peace. That was a first, too.

Harry pushed his foot forward and knocked it against dulled leather shoes.  
"I mean it. No one deserves to see his family in prison.", he tried to convey his sincerity and it seemed to work somewhat. The stiff shoulders relaxed minisculy and a tiny smile graced the thin lips.  
Maybe Harry shouldn't notice how stormgray eyes sparkled in the torch light, but his life was so full of maybes he couldn't stand them anymore.

They finished the rest of their snack in comfortable silence and the tray got put back into the hallway. They still had a lot to do, but for Harry it was almost relaxing now. After spending all day around people who questioned every move he made and nagged him for his choices, it was recreative to be around the slytherin.  
Another quarter into the room they unearthed an old couch that was, while moth-eaten, still usable and a few excessive cleaning spells later they fell down onto it, sighing loudly.

It was easy to forget their animosity. Former animosity, he guessed. Draco was warm and steady at his side, always a constant and it made Harry wonder, only for a second, how things would have unfolded if he took that hand all those years ago.  
Taking it now felt different, probably, because it didn't held as much weight as when they were eleven. It wasn't as staged, either.  
But it got him a stranger look than it would have five years ago, that's for sure.

"Just wanted to know what it feels like.", he commented honestly, turning the hand in his, examining it. Little burn marks roughened his fingertips and palms, courtesy of the many potions he brewed. A scar ran from his ring finger to his wrist , fine and white and barely visible in the bad lighting.  
"And?", Draco inquired softly, wriggling his fingers a little. Harry hadn't noticed that Malfoy got to Draco, but he wouldn't question it. Not now, at least.  
"It's not special.", the Potter said lowly and that made the blond want to retract his hand, snorting derogatory. Harry kept his hold firm.  
"It feels natural.", he concluded subdued, because it somehow felt wrong to talk loudly when it was just the two of them sitting as near as they did.

Draco stilled and his breath caught audibly. Within a world full of maybes and what ifs the blond was now the only real, tangible thing and Harry couldn't stop now. He didn't want to.  
Lifting his head he met stormy clouds of questions and doubt and so much darkness, so much sorrow, so much passion, that he leaned forward to capture the thin, soft lips with his, waiting at first for an answer and deepening the kiss as soon as he felt Draco coming to life. The passion won and hands grabbed his hair in a tight hold, angling his head just right to deepen the kiss.

Taken by surprise, but not unpleasantly so, he fought him for dominance, cupping the pronounced jaw and burrowing the other hand in the slytherins silk shirt.  
As they had to come back for air again there wasn't a winner, but that wasn't too bad, it only gave them more reason for a repeat. Their tongues tangled as their fingers unbuttoned shirts and pushed them from shoulders, feeling the cold damp air on skin they explored with callousities on their fingers, raising goose bumps in their wake. Draco managed to push Harry onto his back, half climbing onto him, pressing their chests together.

Harry could feel every breath against his mouth, every rise and fall against his own ripcage and suddenly there wasn't anything more important in the whole world than making sure it stayed that way. Draco breathing and alive in his arms. His hold tightened around the blond and the slytherin interrupted the kiss with a confused frown.  
Confusion was a good look on him. It made all the hard edged and the pain - not disappear, it was a part of him after all, but it dimmed it down to a more normal, healthy level.

The Potters gaze caught on something dark in the corner of his eyes and he turned his head to it. There, unbearable black against otherwise white skin was the dark mark.  
All colour left Dracos face as he caught sight of it.  
"I ... forgot about it for a minute.", he whispered and it was plain to see that he was busy re-erecting every wall around him that they broke down together. On instinct Harrys hold tightened further for a moment, before he lay a hand on the marked arm.

It looked morbid and cheerless and Draco watched on with a resignation that was all-encompassing between them and the darkhaired couldn't let it stay that way. Without breaking eye-contact he guided the arm towards his mouth and then, with only a little trepidation, he pressed a kiss on the dark mark that sizzled with magic against his lips. It wasn't pleasant, but the relief in his partners eyes was very much worth it.  
"I didn't want it.", Draco felt the need to clarify, but somehow Harry already knew that.

Another kiss was placed on the mark before his hand found the way into silky blond hair, pulling Draco down.  
"I know.", he calmed him and then they were kissing again, getting lost in each other and finding solace in the closeness. The Malfoys skin was soft under his hands, but laced with small scars, just like his own. They all told stories they wanted to know about, but not now. Now they needed to be closer, feel more, hold each other. Fingers found the buttons of trousers and opened them, taking them off with lots of struggles and wriggling, laced with breathless laughter. They could have disposed of them more easily, but didn't want to move too far away from each other.

That could break the charm. What if the other started thinking this over? They weren't going to chance it.  
Draco was lying entirely on top of him now, grinding down with nothing more between them than thin shorts. Both were moaning quietly agaist each other lips, already swollen and cherryred from strain.   
Sneaking his hand between them the Potter found his way into Dracos shorts, grabbing the hard cock he already felt against his, leaking and providing him with natural lube.

A loud moan escaped the blonds lips and he hid his face in Harrys neck, mouthing it in random patterns. Narrow hips bucked down into a strong hand, rubbing all over Harry in the process. The friction took all thoughts from him, letting him bask in the closeness, the feelings drowning him, pulling him under, keeping him there.  
His grip tightened around the long, slender cock, massaging to the rhythm of the blonds thrusts, letting sounds spill from his mouth he didn't think to suppress.

A particular loud moan vibrated in his ears and the next thrust send him over the edge, intensifying his grip another notch, feeling the hard flesh pulse in his hand.  
Out of breath, wet and sticky they kept lying for a while, still basking in each other, trading lazy kisses. As they got colder and the cum on their bellies dried down they first thought about getting up. They locked gazes and while there was an underlying insecurity it still felt mostly natural. Sitting up found Draco in the gryffindores lap, looking down, he bend forward to drop another kiss on Harrys plump lips. 

They they stood up and, after a cleaning spell, they got dressed again. With their clothes on it was infinitesimally weirder, but Harry wouldn't let that notion fester. He laid his hand on Dracos cheek and again they traded kisses, soft and sweet and relieved.  
Then, as if everything was clear and they didn't need any words alltogether, only a handful of smiles, they went back to their work. Professor Snape would come to get them soon and they still needed to get a little clean-up done.

Then, tomorrow, reality would hit them and they'll have to see what they'll do. But that was tomorrow. Today was fleeting touches and secret smiles. It was a dozen stolen kisses and bumping shoulders.  
It was two lonely boys becoming two boys and maybe even more.   
But that was maybe and maybe was tomorrow.


End file.
